


Any Port in a Storm

by deathwailart



Series: The Holy Sea [7]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Bisexual Female Character of Color, Comfort, F/F, Femslash February, Fluff, Implied Relationships, Storms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-08
Updated: 2015-02-08
Packaged: 2018-03-11 04:05:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3313250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deathwailart/pseuds/deathwailart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rajani is scared of winter storms in Castileos, Araceli is there to keep her safe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Any Port in a Storm

The palace windows are rattling when Rajani slips from her bed, hissing at the sudden shock of cold stone floor against her bare feet, chilled though they may be. All this time in Castileos and still her body remembers baking under Zimevur's sun, how it sank into the stone of the palace, into her skin, into her very bones, always warm even though the nights could be far colder than they are here. Her long coat is warm at least as she wraps herself in it to pad out of her quarters in the royal wing of the palace, hoping to find somewhere warm and quiet to wait out the storm if she can. There are storms in Zimevur of course but not like this awful thing that's been raging three days now, blowing in with the tide on the first night but the sailors who had beaten it home had warned them all and she has at least stopped questioning how these people just _know_ when the weather will change. The winds are bitterly cold and violent, howling through all the streets and making the walls of the palace groan as though the whole thing will come tumbling down like a branch under too much strain. In Zimevur there are sandstorms that sweep through, leaving red dust in piles in doorways and at windows, a fine coat of it on everything, or the seasonal monsoons, welcome rain to cool and nourish a parched land after so long on the cusp of a drought. They don their best clothes then, dancing in the streets with bells and chimes about them and paint in their hair to let it run and stain them bright colours, the colours of life. Here, going out in the rain just has her clothes sticking to her, her hair plastered to her scalp, each step reminding her just how wet and frozen she is. This weather is miserable, cold enough to have her fingers sting when she tries to go about her day and an ache has manifested between her shoulders from hunching against it for all the good it does. At least she's managed to avoid going out in it too much, no parades or long patrols, Araceli and Brunilda happiest to run out in it like most of the natives who simply shrug and go about their days as though the damage is nothing to worry about. As though going out doesn't mean struggling for every step, the window either making doors, windows and shutters bang if it isn't trying to rip them off and half the time she's convinced she'll be blown from the streets and into the waterways, the rain an unrelenting deluge that soaks a person to the bone in an instant.  
  
She will never understand these people.  
  
The slap of her bare feet seems too loud somehow, her bitten-off yelp of alarm when lightning arcs down, blinding her before the thunder booms overhead even louder. She moves quicker, intent on finding the kitchens to tuck herself next to the stove, where the rough stone is always warm and where the thick walls mean the storm won't be so loud. Hopefully the kitchen staff won't be up yet because not many of them trust her still, a woman from Zimevur, especially not since Leandra began to give the queensguard more freedom, more reminders of home, asking for cooks from their homes to come and stay or to teach her own staff to cook favourite meals. _Is our food not good enough for her? If it is good enough for the queen it should be good enough for her_ , the cooks had muttered, either unknowing or uncaring that Rajani speaks the Castilean tongue as well as her own, like all the queensguard must. _Ungrateful bitch._ It makes her pause, one hand on the wall as she takes a breathe and counts the heartbeats for the next rattle of thunder, the little knot of anxiety returning because she's trying so hard and she's been here more than a year and still they think she has ulterior motives, muttered comments and dark looks. It shames her to think that this is how she made Araceli feel when she first joined, made her feel like an outsider. Those first months of knowing Araceli and thinking the worst, always suspecting something. Araceli forgave her but still, there are times when it's just the two of them where she has to think and breathe, _I'm sorry_ and _forgive me_ in every kiss and touch as Araceli sighs beneath her.  
  
"Raj?"  
  
A pale blue door opens, a hand a little darker than Rajani's own wrapped around one of the silver seahorse handles and she feels herself smile when Araceli leans out, a thick blanket wrapped around her like a cloak. Lux appears too, his nails clicking as he steps out to greet Rajani. The window howls, the castle moaning as though it'll be ripped open and she jumps again, burying her fingers into Lux's thick warm fur. The fox hops up on his hind legs when she kneels down and tucks his head beneath her chin as if he knows she's frightened of the storm, of just how _angry_ Castileos can be for all that everyone calls it a warm and welcoming place. Araceli's blanket whispers against the floor, her curse soft and almost lost; her floors are made of wood, not tile or stone, old and unvarnished but sanded and worn smooth from time, cosy and the stone tiles are probably a shock. No one has ever received a splinter or snagged their clothes on Araceli's nice wooden floor that keeps in the heat.  
  
"Why are you up?" Rajani asks when Araceli kneels beside her, one hand on Lux, the other wrapping around Rajani's shoulders. When she looks over, she can see her frown.  
  
"That's my line," Araceli mutters, rising to her feet and taking Rajani with her. "The storm, right?" When Rajani only sighs, the blanket is shrugged off and wrapped around her shoulders.  
  
"I don't know how you can stand it," she admits, tugging the blanket up to her nose and burrowing into it. It's soft wool, dark blue with brightly coloured circles that she said were sea anemones once, made by a woman that lives in the building Araceli still lives in, a tiny little box of a place. "So loud, so _cold_."  
  
Araceli's laugh is gentle, her fingers tucking Rajani's stray golden curls behind her ears as she directs her to the bed and she's only too willing to slide into the warm spot the other woman vacated. "This is Castileos, we always have winter storms and summer storms, spring storms and autumn storms, you've been here long enough to have seen them all."  
  
"This seems especially bad," Rajani complains, making herself comfortable.  
  
"Every so many years we get these, they have different names depending on where you go but mmm...maybe every five or so years, late winter or early spring the weather turns. We have better fishing after, all the goodness is churned up and then the sun will come out, huge blooms and the whales come so close! We need to take you to see them!" As Araceli speaks, she squirms under the blankets to rub Rajani's cold hands as Lux hops up on the bed to curl up on Rajani's frozen feet. "I suppose it must be frightening, when you aren't used to it."  
  
Rajani just nods and squeezes Araceli's hands. "Why were you up?" She asks, wanting to talk about anything else.  
  
"It was too quiet for me," she admits and Rajani doesn't mean to laugh but it happens anyway. "I lived right by the docks for years! This is very quiet, I can't feel my building shake, I can't hear the spray hitting my windows or the ships groaning and straining, no bells ringing. It's like being underwater."  
  
"You're very strange," Rajani murmurs and where once it was an insult, now it's fond, traded between all of them, her and Araceli , Eir and Brunilda, Argyris and Nerissa, even Leandra. Araceli smiles and opens her arms so that Rajani can curl against her.  
  
Araceli kisses her when the lightning cracks, warm soft lips and long black curls to tangle her fingers in. Lux hops off the bed and to his own little spot by the fire when Rajani moves too much and dislodges him, huffing his annoyance. The lightning isn't so loud in Araceli's room, her drapes as dark as the clouds that haven't budged for days now and her own heartbeat in her ears rivals the thunder, clever fingers drawing lines between her freckles until Rajani pushes her hands away, breathless from laughter. Araceli rolls over willingly when she gives her a push so she can tuck her face against her neck, kissing the little spot just beneath and behind her ear where her skin is warm and smells like the sea no matter what, those long curls tickling her nose.  
  
"I'll keep you safe," Araceli mumbles, dislodging Rajani briefly so she can kiss her forehead and Rajani doesn't doubt her for a second.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written back when we were having crazy storms in January then I figured I might as well finish it up for Femslash February


End file.
